Falling to Pieces
by kikis2
Summary: Sequel to Some Assembly Required. They're all a little older and a lot more broken. Marriages, divorce, threesomes, slashy vibes. CB,Ns,SB, and Carter...being Carter.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Sequel to **_**Some Assembly Required**_**. You don't have to read the first to understand this, but it's an idea. If you didn't like that one, you're sure not going to like this. **

**Warning: Language.**

**AU. (I guess, unless the GG writers get really awesome.) Set in about 2020. And yeah, I totally get that people aren't really interested in reading cracky, future fics but...oh well.**

**XOXO**

"Miss Blair, Miss Blair." Dorota was kneeling by Blair's side, gently shaking her arm.

Blair blinked sleepily at the sweet, familiar face of her maid, illuminated by the glow of her lamp. "Wha...?" She couldn't help the slight whine to her voice.

"It's Miss Serena. She is home." Dorota pursed her lips, unwilling to say anymore, unwilling to say anything that might be misconstrued as an opinion.

_Home. Serena was home._ Relief larger than the ocean swept through Blair's body. It made her want to close her eyes and just wallow in the feeling. 

She easily saw through her maid's silence. "Where?" she asked with a sigh, already guessing. She reached out a hand, confirming that the other side of the bed was still untouched. Like it had been for the last week.

"Her and Mister Chuck, they be in the billiard room." Dorota stood, pulling her dressing gown tight around her plump body, signalling that that really was the last she'd say on the matter.

The tingling thrill was still so large that Blair couldn't work up the disapproval to make a disgusted sound at the mere mention of Chuck's private room.

Blair quickly pulled on a robe, padding down the stairs as quietly as possible. Towards the bottom of the stairs she sat, pulling her knees to her body. She peered through the gap in the railings, where the door to Chuck's den was left mostly open.

She wrapped her arm around a banister, resting her forehead on the cool wood.

Serena and Chuck shared the piano stool, the line of their bodies meeting in that comfortable and easy manner they had. Soft notes reached Blair's ears, broken-up by the sound of missed keys and Serena's laughter. Her husband played the adequate and uninspired notes to _Heart and Soul_, simultaneously telling Serena her keys to play.

Chuck had always mocked the UESers who pushed their kids into something as useless as the arts, while Serena hadn't been able to sit through the first fifteen minutes of the piano lessons Lily had bought.

The noisy clinker of glass suggested that Chuck had drunk enough to make his pouring clumsy, but they were both sober enough to still talk in a stage whisper.

Serena let out a girlish squeal and slapped Chuck's shoulder.

Blair hadn't been able to pull of that sound even when she was a child, but it didn't surprise her that it sounded natural on Serena's lips. She didn't like the idea of Chuck and Serena talking. Not when she hadn't talked to Serena first. Not when Chuck was barely speaking to her.

Blair barely managed to hold herself back. Chuck was going through one of his withdrawn periods, drinking by himself a lot. But Serena had slowed down a lot; at least since that awful period that Blair did her best to repress. As much as she hated Chuck at the moment, she trusted that he would stop soon, that he'd look after himself and Serena as well.

Serena had been gone for five months.

After the bad days, she'd given Serena an ultimatum. _Come back soon, or don't come back at all. Talk to me while you're gone, or don't talk to me again._ And even though Serena had been fragile, the barest inch away from breaking, Blair had been just sick and _so _tired of playing catch-up with a girl who could run that fast. It was as much for Serena as for herself. She knew being away wouldn't help. It wasn't healing it was just running.

So five months wasn't long considering Serena's past...vacations. But it felt long when her and Chuck had been fighting for most of that time. Chuck had had his dirty, filthy, hooker secretary to amuse himself with. Blair was still thrilled to have driven away that skank with veiled threats. But she'd felt alone and lost and had nothing but hastily scrawled postcards and a few voice messages from the girl who supposedly loved her.

She yawned into her arm, before walking back to bed. She crawled under the covers feeling unsteady and worn-out.

Before she could fall into a deep sleep, her eyes snapped open at the sound of poorly smothered laughter and a sudden dip in the bed.

Chuck eased Serena down, prying her clinging hands from his collar. She was mumbling soft words that Blair was too tired to make out. Chuck put a gentle hand over Serena's mouth, leaning close. "Enough. Sleep."

Something about the slow words seeped into Serena's psyche and made her curl up on the mattress.

Quietly he moved around to Blair's side of the bed. Chuck crouched beside her. She wanted to say something to make the moment less tense. She wanted things between them to be easy. But nothing was easy anymore.

Chuck unfroze, giving her the bland look she'd come to expect. "She started talking about..." His eyes drifted over Blair's body to where Serena was glassily staring in his direction. He doubted she was coherent enough to eavesdrop, but it was best to play it safe. "_Him_ and the other stuff, so I cut her off."

Blair nodded, trying to think of questions to keep him by her side just for a little longer, but she could barely hold her eyes open.

"I have to go. Be back Thursday." He hesitated before placing a swift kiss on her lips.

He left and for the millionth time Blair wondered if this time it was forever.

Serena edged closer, cautiously touching Blair's back. She trailed her fingers uncertainly over the thin nightgown. Blair's rebuffs tended to sting in the worst places.

"Missed you, B."

Blair closed her eyes at the warm breath on her neck, thought about hissing _then you shouldn't have left_, but she was tired and those words were as old as they were useless. Instead she guided Serena's hand around her waist, letting herself fall into the touch. There was always time to fight in the morning.

**XOXO**

Serena woke early. With slow, careful movements she pulled herself out of bed.

With another quiet movement, she closed the door to the en suite. Tiny mirrored tiles lined the floors, the walls were black marble. It was opulent and so very Chuck and Blair.

She stared at her reflection above the his and hers sinks. Her eyes were puffy, the flesh of her cheeks stained an unnatural pink, her head was covered with more knots than actual hair. Gone were the days of partying till dawn and waking up at midday to start all over again. Like most things, she had never noticed them slipping away.

She searched eyes, the corners of her mouth, looking for wrinkles. But there wasn't even the faintest edging of lines. There should be, she knew. There should be something, a sign, a hint of how weary and broken she was. Some external warning of the fuck-up on the inside. But it was the same reflection that had been staring back at her for as long as she could remember.

She turned away when she couldn't stand looking at _her_ for any longer. Slumping against the cold wall, she let water wash half a bottle of gin and a seven hour flight off her body.

Blair waited in the dining room, disinterestedly flipping through the paper. Serena came through the French doors, her hair pulled into a low bun.

She gave Serena five minutes of breakfast before starting the interrogation.

"Have a good night?" Blair kept flipping through the pages.

Serena eyed her warily. "Fine."

"Where were you?" _Please don't say the Hamptons_.

"Milan."

Blair bit back an exclamation of joy. She could handle anything but a reunion. Serena's divorce had nearly destroyed them all. The only thing worse than the three months of tears and broken hearts in the lawyer's office, was the three months before that—silence, and vodka, pretty smiles, and we're-okays.

She'd set the East Hamptons on fire before she let Serena do that to herself again.

Most people couldn't see the difference. But Blair could. _Hers to see_. _Hers to know_. Serena might not look any different, but there weren't as many smiles, childish giggles had given way in favour of hesitant high spun laughs—a breakable sound. Pretty navy eyes didn't dance, they just kind of hid things.

"And you're here because...?"

Serena shook her head, eyes shifting away uncomfortably. "I just kind of needed home."

Blair nodded, turning back towards the lifestyle section. She wished Chuck was here. Chuck was the only one who made things better. Made the lawyers cooperate, made sure paper work was filed, made Serena smile—made Blair okay.

The monitor in the foyer buzzed and Blair moved with reluctance. She stopped by Serena's side, brushing a kiss over the blonde's brow. "I needed you too. Don't leave again."

Serena searched Blair's face with an odd kind of longing. She wanted something to hold onto, something that would hold back. "I won't. Never again," she promised with a desperate sort of vehemence.

It was an empty promise, the kind Blair had heard again and again. But she nodded, smiling like she believed.

There was a green light flashing on the monitor in the foyer, which meant the doormen had left a message. Already there was a rising discomfort in Blair's chest. She could count the number of people allowed into the apartment without explicit permission on four fingers. Her mother and Cyrus were still in France and Serena was in the dining room.

The elevator chimed open.

Nate barrelled out. His grey shirt wasn't buttoned properly and his suit jacket was missing. Piles of folders swayed uneasily in his hand. He gave her a small smile in greeting, stooping to kiss her cheek. "I'm already running so late, but Chuck wanted these forms. I don't know why he needs the memos of Councillor Scott from the last twenty years and I don't want to know."

_He doesn't need them_. Faintly she realised she should say something, but It was like one of those dreams where the trains heading for you and your limbs aren't working.

"Don't let him tell me if it's something I could go to prison for," he half-joked, heading for the office.

Blair closed her eyes, trying to find the will to go in there. She trailed behind him, circling around his frozen form in the dining room.

Serena's legs were pulled up under her chin while she idly poked at the grapes on her plate. Nate just stood there with a kind of deer-in-the-headlights look.

Serena shot her a subtle glare and Blair gave her most apologetic look. If she'd had psychic powers she totally would have sent out the _ex-husband-heading-your-way_ signal.

"Hey Natie."

Nate shook off his momentary lapse, quickly masking his expression into something not horrified. "Hey S," he returned quietly, a wealth of repressed emotion in those simple words.

With that he continued on into the office, leaving both girls highly disturbed.

"If he comes back in here with a gun, you're on your own, sweety," Blair warned.

Serena just sighed, shoving a fistful of berries in her mouth. "Had to happen sooner or later, I guess."

Blair's eyes narrowed. She would have chosen _never_. But the fact that Chuck had chosen _now_, was more troubling than she imagined.

_What game was he playing now?_

**XOXO**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Even my ideas are someone else's, just rearranged into something resembling novelty.

**A/N: So I gave up on this story when I broke two laptops, but my mother (who snoops) found an old usb in my draws and mailed it to me. So I'll be posting at least another chapter and the prequel. **

**XOXO**

Blair went upstairs to make her phone call.

"Blair, I'm in the middle of—"

"_Chuck_," she greeted slowly, all the time in the world. "Why are you sending Nate over here?" she asked, like it was nothing more than a pleasant inquiry.

There was a muffled noise as he excused himself from a meeting. "He wanted to know when she got back," he began, already tired of this conversation. "You forbade me to mention her name to him. She is his wife." He was stuck, no way out of this mess, he was sure of it. "I did what I could, with what little I was given."

"_Was. _She _was _his wife." Blair positioned herself behind a column to watch the dining room. Serena looked like she wanted to be anywhere but talking to Nate. Nate just seemed resigned to the whole situation. "Oh, how clever you must be feeling."

"No, that doesn't quite cover what I'm feeling, right now." Chuck was, in fact, considering the quickest way home. He loved Blair, but he did think she'd push Nate down a flight of stairs, if the opportunity arose. "Don't expect me to screw Nate over." He couldn't decide if they were starting a new game, or if this was the same one they'd been playing for years. Either way, he had to start drawing the lines. "You want to make your mildly incestuous threesome full-time? Then you're going to have to do it yourself."

Under her breath Blair made an amused sound. "Like I have to work for it." She hung up.

"Nate," she cried happily, descending the stairs, "you have the worst timing." She latched onto Serena's arm. "We were just about to go shopping."

Serena looked between Blair and Nate.

"We'll do dinner sometime," Blair promised, pushing Serena into the elevator.

"Wait, I'm going down—" Nate's words were cut short.

Blair shot him an apologetic look between the closing doors. "_So _ sorry."

Serena shook her arm loose. "Really, B?"

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Subtle."

"You should be thanking me. I'm your rescuer."

"I don't need rescuing from Nate," Serena explained steadily. Nate was never the one in the wrong. That was all her, every time, without fail. Blair looked unrepentant. "We better actually be shopping," Serena said, giving up.

Shopping wasn't the therapeutic retreat Blair had hoped. But it was normal. She'd missed normal. Serena had only two of her silent moments with the restless fingers and glassy eyes, but Blair could always bring her back with a gentle word.

"Blair, Serena, I didn't think I'd be seeing you here." It took Blair a moment to recognise the throaty voice with the Spanish accent. Jovana Baizen. Who also happened to be her least favourite Baizen, which actually said a lot.

"Hi, Jov." Serena sucked in a deep breath, preparing herself.

Blair fixed on a confused smile. "Really, Jo? You didn't expect to see _us_ on the Upper East Side, where we were born and raised. How odd."

Jovana shook her head, knowing how it made her copper hair reflect the light. She matched Blair's smile with one just as bright and just as fake. "It's an expression, Blair." She turned back to Serena. "I was sorry to hear about you and Nate…and everything."

Serena nodded, uncertain what to say. Her and Jovana had never been friends.

"You're not staying for long, are you?" Blair demanded. The threat clearly implied.

"In town? No. But we have been looking for a place in the Hamptons. I can't stand it. All those gawking tourists, but Carter…" Jovana's eyes narrowed in thought, before she brightened. "But we did see one. Post-war, beachfront, atrocious decorating."

And Blair, who already saw where this was going, clutched her friend's arm. Serena, as oblivious as usual, nodded politely—clearly not listening to a word.

"Caroline Charles wallpaper in one of the bedroom. _Wallpaper_, can you believe it?" she laughed.

Blair's eyes narrowed. "No, wallpaper on walls. What _will_ they think of next?" She ushered Serena out of the store, ignoring Jovana as much as one can ignore her.

"Caroline designed that wallpaper for me," Serena breathed dazedly.

"I know, honey." Blair patted Serena's hand in sympathy. "She was just trying to annoy you. She knows Carter downgraded and married her just to make you jealous."

"She's a six-foot Miss Universe runner-up. I don't think he downgraded," Serena pointed out, still distracted.

"So she's got a couple extra inches? She also has fifteen pounds on you," Blair argued. "Carter's affair with you went sideways and he picked up the first glamazon he crossed."

"We didn't have an affair," Serena replied automatically, not able to summon any self-righteousness for the years-old argument.

"Sure you didn't." Blair hustled Serena into the car.

"How can he just do that?"

"Marry Eurotrash? I have no idea. I mean despite his _obvious_ shortfalls, he did tend to have impeccable—"

"Not Carter. _Nate._"

Nate. It was always Nate. She was sick of hearing about him. "Why do you care? You didn't want the house before. You didn't want anything. And who divorces a van der Bilt and takes nothing, by the way? That is ridiculous."

"I thought you were the one going on about making it 'a clean break'," Serena mimicked.

When she said clean she'd meant take the house and fifty percent of everything he had, not _nothing_. It was moments like this when Blair had to appreciate how little input Lily had truly had on her only daughter.

"Can he just sell our house like that?"

"Can he sell the house that you let him take, which no one lives in?" Blair eyed her in disbelief. "Yes, Serena, I believe he can."

"But…" It didn't make sense. "Carter?"

"She was just tormenting you. Nate wouldn't sell Carter ice in the Arctic," Blair answered with little patience.

"Well maybe I changed my mind. Maybe I do want the house," Serena said experimentally.

Blair's patience snapped. She threw open the car door before striding into the foyer. She knew this would happen. Knew Serena could never just be happy with what she had. Blair couldn't do it again. Couldn't watch Serena and Nate do their whole star-crossed-lover's-tragedy.

"Why can't you just make a decision and stick to it? Do you like the city, or do you like the Hamptons? You can't have both!"

Serena glanced around in confusion, well aware of Blair's neighbours passing them by. "What about Sumer, B? We always used to Summer in the Hamptons."

Blair closed her eyes. She stepped closer, till she had to look up to meet Serena's eyes. She ran her fingers down the collar of Serena's dress, wishing so hard she could make her understand, just for one minute. "We used to do a lot of things, Serena…But things are different now. We're different. It can't _all_ be about Summer anymore."

Serena smiled down sweetly, her eyes going soft, if still a little hesitant. She finally replied, "So you think I should get an apartment?"

Of course Serena didn't get it. She never got it.

Blair made a disgusted sound, spinning around and marching fast enough that Serena had to jog to catch up. "Yes," she screeched sarcastically, "I'm worried about your real estate options."

**XOXO**

Blair settled on carmine pink for her nails. Serena had pleaded exhaustion hours ago. Blair had let her go without a word. Chuck had often claimed she was the most exhausting woman, but she didn't think that was Serena's problem.

Blair listened to her doorman's message in disbelief.

"I can't believe this," she muttered bitterly, looking heavenward as if for answers.

"Miss me that much?" Carter responded merrily.

"You got it in one," she murmured, tilting her hear. "I can't believe you are actually showing your face here. What would your wife say?"

Carter hadn't changed all that much. He'd shaved, wore designers she could name, but apart from that he was the same manipulative piece of work she'd always known.

"How kind of you to worry." He reached up, cupping her cheek. "But I don't think you should be judging anyone."

Blair smacked his hand away. "You're vile and I hate you."

Carter laughed. "Still abrasive as ever, I see. When are you going to lighten up? We should be friends. After all, we do keep each other's secrets," he whispered mockingly.

Blair went cold, her mind whirring into a jumble of anger and fear. "Are you threatening me?" she demanded, just as quiet. "If you tell Serena what we did, I'll murder you. And that _is _a threat." Serena would never forgive her. Not if she knew the truth.

Carter held up his hands, still smiling. It's not as if he was eager to have the whole ugly scene laid out. "Just a friendly observation. Don't worry about showing me around, I'm sure I'll find my way." With a wink he bounded up the stairs.

Blair rolled her eyes, checking her nails to make sure the unpleasantness hadn't smudged one.

Carter found Serena behind door number one. Serena stretched languidly managing a small smile at his appearance.

"Hey, beautiful." He pressed a quick kiss into her cheek. "Blair and I caught up on old times." He dragged an armchair closer to the bed.

"Ah, I thought I heard the sound of Blair's repulsion," she said, still blinking sleepily. "I suppose Jovana told you I was still in town and you figured 'one Baizen is just never enough'."

He shrugged "Something like that." It was more like: this visit had been a long time coming and they both knew it.

They watched each other in companionable silence. Neither trusting themselves not to say something to ruin it.

Serena wrapped the sheets tighter around her body, though Carter had seen her in less.

"I'm sorry—" Carter began.

"Don't," Serena interrupted. "It's okay." She looked away, not wanting to get into anything she couldn't handle.

He gathered her hands into his, placing a kiss on each of her closed fists to get her attention. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here when everything was going down. By the time I'd got here they'd already sent you away, and no one would tell me where you were."

Serena nodded, still unable to meet his eyes. She'd wished he'd come for her, wished someone would tell her how to escape. "It's okay. It was good for me."

Carter let go of her hands. "Where did they put you, anyway? Money around town said they had you wrapped up in a straitjacket on Wards Island."

Serena sighed amusedly. "I know what they were saying. I spent a month in a Norwegian spa." She'd grabbed at the chance to get away. Would have done anything to get out of her too-big, too-quiet house. Though she wasn't sure how voluntary anything was when Blair gets involved. But things had been clearer when she came out, just as painful, but clearer. "They did frown on the whole medicating yourself into oblivion thing, which kind of sucked."

"I bet." He watched as Serena picked at threads on the sheets, wondering how much of the story she was leaving out. "Still, I would have liked a chance to play Prince Charming."

"As if I need one," she said hotly.

Carter snickered. "I hate to break it to you, S, but I've never met anyone who needed rescuing as often as you do."

The thought had occurred to her before, but she preferred not to think about it. "Forgotten so soon? You already found your damsel in distress." She flicked his wedding band for emphasis.

"I moonlight," he returned, unabashed.

"I wonder…" she stopped herself, knowing she was going into dangerous territory.

His smile dissolved, eyes going dark. "What?"

_What if I'd said yes to you, instead?_

"You're wondering _what if_." His smile reappeared at her shocked face. "_I know you_."

Those words sent a shiver down her spine. Was that where it all began?

"You really want to rescue me?" she asked after a second.

"Sure, though I can't promise I'll be any good at it."

"Well, you're kind of a lawyer, right?"

"Kind of," he agreed. "Got some pending warrants? Though Mister City Councillor might be more help with the traffic offences," he pointed out, referring to Nate.

"You know he's a campaign manager, Carter," she said, delaying the inevitable explanation. "I may have been somewhat presumptuous about the whole divorce thing."

Carter pinched the bridge of his nose while she explained the whole problem. When she finished he just shook his head in amazement.

"So…help?" She already knew he would—knew when he was within reach, he'd do anything she needed.

"I'll look into it, but I don't like your chances." He ruffled her hair, before walking away.

Carter paused at the door, turning in profile. "About what you were wondering…" He rolled the thought of Serena as his wife around in his head. It didn't sting the way it once had. They'd probably be at least as screwed up as they were now, if not more. But…"Maybe a little mystery is a good thing. And I won't tell, if you won't."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Not the characters and not the cracky things I make them do.

**A/N: This is the last chapter I had written for this story…You could always leave an idea for what you want to see, seen as I don't really care about what it's shipping anymore :)**

**Warning: Slashyness. Total melodrama. **

Sometime before dinner, she pulled herself out of bed.

She found Blair quietly pouring over work in her study. "Busy?"

Blair shook her head. "I was wondering when you'd get hungry. I ordered Chinese."

The thought of food made her stomach jump nervously. How could she eat when…? She couldn't, but she's pretend her hardest, for Blair.

"How are you?" Blair asked, studying Serena.

Serena raised a brow.

"I finally put the dates together. Your return wasn't exactly random."

"No." Serena fingered the photo frames on the edge of the desk. She knew them. Chuck and Blair, Nate and her and she couldn't look at that photo with that perfect, smiling blonde. Just couldn't. "I'm as alright as I can be." But she didn't want to talk about it. Wouldn't think about it, or her, or anything.

She changed the subject, not as seamlessly as she hoped. "I thought about what you said, about the apartment and everything?"

Blair shut the lookbook she was working on. She reclined as much as her chair allowed, staring at the ceiling—trying to find the words she needed, though she doubted their existence. "Serena, I wasn't actually suggesting you buy an apartment."

"I know." Serena collapsed in the loveseat that took up most of one wall. "I'm a little slow, not a complete lost cause."

Blair nodded calmly, fighting the anxiousness that wanted her to shake answers and promises from Serena's lips. "And what decision did you make?"

"I'm _here_, B." She held her hands wide in appeal.

"But are you staying? Because I don't know…" _How much longer I can run after you; how long I can keep pretending you want me to be the one who finds you._

"I want to," she started cautiously, but Blair was already nodding her head.

"I knew it," Blair announced, bitter and knowing.

" I do! I just—" She'd wanted it to work so many times before. With Cater and Nate, and always with Blair. But it never had. And it always came back to her. She was the person who left, who ran, who wondered what if, and wandered after it.

Blair sat next to her, peeling her hands away from her face. "Be honest, Serena."

Serena nodded. This felt like one of those big, crossroad's kind of moments—the kind she usually smiled and laughed at, let pass her by, because she didn't want anything to be so permanent she couldn't back out of it later. She kissed Blair, not to make another moment disappear as fast she could undress, like usual. This time she was trying to make a moment. "I love you. The only reason I wouldn't come back to you, is if I can find a way not to leave you."

Blair smiled against her lips, but Serena could see the mistrust in her eyes. "Do you think people can change?" She realised how simple and stupid that sounded. "I mean in big, basic ways, like the hand they write with, or the way they think."

Blair seeing how serious Serena was, thought about the question just as seriously. "I guess," she said hesitantly, "but not on their own. Changing like that would have to hurt, and they'd have to change for a reason bigger than themselves."

Serena listened hopefully. She'd hurt. More than she thought possible. Been broken into enough pieces that surely some got put back the wrong way. And Blair and her family were a cause bigger than herself. She could be different.

"Is tomorrow going to be awful for you?" Blair asked when the silence had gone on for too long. She drew Serena's strap up where it had slipped from her shoulder.

Serena didn't respond, just shut her eyes and buried her face in Blair's neck. Awful didn't even come close to describing tomorrow.

**XOXO**

This was her life. Sometimes she had to remind herself. But this was it. This was where she ended up. Her heels slipped unsteadily between the gravel, as she made her way up the drive. Cemeteries get a bad rap. They're supposed to be dark, with leaveless trees and eerie sounds. It was actually bright, and green and almost charming when you didn't think too closely about who you were walking over. She threw her empty cup in a nearby bin, trying to look like a respectful mourner. She'd dressed in a beige pantsuit, but she still didn't look the way she thought someone in a cemetery should. She'd parked outside the gates, hoping she could find her way if she went slow enough. Her memories of that day are covered in a thick benzo-induced haze. But she didn't have to trust her memory, not when Nate's Range Rover was still so huge.

This was her life. Twenty-four hours in a day and her ex-husband—possibly current husband—who had excellent reasons to hate her, would choose the exact same hour as she did.

Nate saw her coming, but didn't turn. Once, he didn't have enough strength for both of them. Once, he didn't have enough strength for himself. But things were better now. He could sit here, his back pressed against the grave of Charles Grimone—after a hundred visits he knew all the graves in direct contact with hers—and maybe he'd tear up, but afterwards he could go home or to work and not feel like dying. That was progress. He stood, carefully checking the cherub that stood watch over his daughter's grave.

"Happy birthday Lila," he whispered, pressing his fingers to his lips then resting them against the cherub's cheek.

Slowly he approached Serena. She leaned against a monument taller than she was, a yellow bear hanging sadly from one hand. "Hey."

"Hey," she replied warily.

Nate couldn't tell anything from her face. Her lips were a glossy line that looked neither happy or sad. Her mirrored sunglasses reflected his own careful face. He didn't blame her for being wary. She had never wanted to come here. Every Sunday, he'd pull her from bed—no matter what illness she'd concocted—and force her into the car. And it didn't matter the words he'd said, the pleas he'd made, she would never leave the car. He'd have thrown her over his shoulder, or dragged her, but she'd only have turned around and run back to the car.

So he'd come to visit Lila's grave and mourn alone, and cry for the little girl whose mother sat in a car not fifty feet from them and refused to turn her head their way.

Standing here, he remembered the way Serena use to cry and turn into the car door like she could hide there. _Why can't you just leave me alone? _How many Sunday mornings had she screamed those words at him?

He ran a hand through his hair. Looking back, he knew he'd been cruel—forcing her to come when she couldn't mourn and hated it so badly. But he hadn't known what else to do with a wife who slept eighteen hours a day and cringed when she saw him.

"I thought you'd forgotten," he started, then wanted to smack himself in the head.

"You thought I'd forget my own daughter's birthday," she hissed, looking away.

"No, no…I just know how hard you try to forget." He grabbed her wrist before she could turn away. "You know I always say the wrong thing. Don't try and start a fight with me just so you can escape." Gently he tugged her towards the grave, when she still looked uncertainly between him and the road. "C'mon, I don't think that bear is for me."

"I didn't know what to—" Her breath came to fast, and if he couldn't see her eyes, he could still see her swipe angrily at the wetness on her cheek. "I know flowers, but I thought—" She couldn't think anymore, couldn't think past that marbled cherub. She took off her glasses and glared at the sun till she went blind for a blissful second.

"The bear's fine. Lila would have liked it." He'd bring it a case, so it wouldn't get destroyed in the rain. He wasn't supposed to. The cemetery was strict about what you could leave. He'd have to slip someone a bonus; he'd be damned if he turned away Serena's first gift.

Nate watched as she leant down to meticulously place the bear by the cherub's side. Her hands trembled and a small hiccup escaped her mouth. She smoothed the bear's fur, careful to never read the nearby inscription. Nate didn't know what Serena saw when she looked at the pretty little cherub, and he didn't want to. Not when it made her hand fly up to tangle endless loops into her necklace and her eyes go wide and glassy with terror.

He squeezed her hand that sat limp and unresponsive in his. "You can say something, if you want…I know you don't believe she can hear, but it might make you feel better," he suggested cautiously.

Those navy eyes turned on him, still huge and terrified. "I don't—I don't think" she stuttered before she pulled that necklace a touch too taught and it broke with only a tiny sound. She stared after it, but her eyes were watery and everything was blurring together. "I'm going."

"Serena, just—"

"No!" She looked between Nate and the monument, feeling oddly trapped.

"Okay," he soothed.

"I have to go." She snatched her hand from his hard enough that she stumbled backwards. "I'm sorry," she whispered, unsure if she was still talking to Nate or not.

She didn't run, but she wanted to. Tears were coming hot and fast now and she must have tripped over a dozen grave stones before she finally made it back to the gravelled road.

Nate kneeled to pick up the gold necklace, not even slightly surprised at what dangled from it. Her wedding ring swung and twisted in the air before he shoved the necklace and its lonely attachment in his pocket.


End file.
